No One Messes With Mike Ross
by Beautiful-Crying-Angel
Summary: After 2 years, finally moving this fic to its proper category! Tag to S1E3: Mike hadn't meant to kiss Jenny, but he couldn't change the fact that it happened. When Trevor finds out he isn't happy, but he is mistaken if he thinks he can mess with Mike.


**_This is just a little one-shot tag to episode 3 "Inside Track." It involves hurt!Mike and caring!Harvey (or at least as caring as he can really be). Anyways, I hope that you will read and enjoy. Leave a review!_**

**Summary: _Mike hadn't meant to kiss Jenny, but he couldn't change the fact that it happened. When Trevor finds out he isn't happy, especially when he meets Harvey Specter. (Sucky summary I know). NO SLASH, just bromance. *girly sigh*  
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**_Rated T for teen for minor language, some violence, and mention of drug usage. ANYWHO, on with the fic!_**

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><p><strong>No One Messes With Mike Ross<strong>

It should never have happened, but it had, and Mike couldn't change that fact. One minute he had just been talking to Jenny and the next their lips had aggressively sought each others'. She was so sad and lonely, but that didn't make it right. Cutting Trevor, his drug-dealing best friend, out of his life was one thing, kissing said ex-friend's girl was a different story.

Mike tried not to let this turn of events distract him at work the next day. He was a bigger man than that. He had important work to do, he was not about to blow this chance, but his mind kept going back to it. He reread the same paragraph three times, something that he had never, ever had to do before. It was already 8 o'clock by that time, and he wasn't getting anywhere so he decided to pack up his things and go home.

Mike had somehow managed to avoid Rachel the entire day, which was not an easy task. He would conveniently have to leave his desk whenever she walked by, and he took a route that kept him away from her office whenever he had to stop in and see Harvey. That night, she was getting into a cab as he unlocked his bike. She waved but he pretended not to see her. He quickly pedaled away.

It wasn't fair to her, he knew, especially after the way she had saved his ass with that rookie dinner. He just could not bring himself to face her after the previous night, after Jenny. He was stricken with this inexplicable guilt that left him paralyzed. It was like he had cheated on her or something.

Mike shook his head to clear such a ridiculous thought. It didn't make any sense; in order for such an action to constitute "cheating" than he would have to be in an actual relationship with Rachel, which he wasn't. At least, he didn't think he was. But he couldn't shake the feeling gnawing at the back of his brain, so to distract himself he repeated the first act of Shakespeare's "Macbeth" backwards, as he rode home.

_** SUITS**_

Mike's first clue that something was up was the light spilling out from under his apartment door. He unlocked it and stepped inside to see Trevor lounging on his sofa once again. Honestly, Mike wasn't surprised, but he couldn't help wondering just how in the hell the young dealer had gotten in.

"I thought we both made it pretty clear that we were done," he remarked, tossing his satchel on the table and heading for the fridge. Trevor didn't say anything. He didn't move. He just stared at the blank television set. "Well, what are you doing here?"

"You kissed Jenny."

Mike froze. How did he know that?

As though reading his mind, Trevor said "She told me last night, in tears. She was so ashamed. You know Jenny - she always did have a sensitive conscience. Couldn't even keep it a secret from me, even after I kept my dealing from her for so long."

Mike couldn't find the words he needed to say. He was unable to apologize, and quite frankly he did not want to. Jenny deserved a lot better than Trevor, and he had even said himself that he had always known Mike cared about her. "I hadn't meant for it to happen." There, that was the truth. Trevor had been his friend, and he had never wanted to hurt him like this. Kissing someone else's girlfriend was wrong, no matter how one looked at it.

Trevor stood and turned to Mike, his eyes puffy and red – due mostly to the weed, but also because of the tears threatening to be unearthed. Trevor quickly closed the distance between them. Although they were roughly the same height, he seemed to loom over Mike. That familiar feeling of intimidation, which he hadn't felt since grade-school, crept into his spine.

"You didn't mean for it to happen? You kissed Jenny, man."

Mike didn't like where the situation was headed. "Trevor, I think you should leave."

The first punch was an uppercut aimed at his jaw which temporarily affected his vision. Trevor took that opportunity to try to hit him again, aiming for his gut. Mike had expected it though and he landed a blow of his own. One hit led to another: hit, miss, dodge, hit, block, hit. They were full out brawling, their fists connecting with flesh over and over again. The last time they had fought was nothing compared to this. They were really trying to hurt each other.

Unfortunately Trevor had the advantage. His dealing had inspired him to improve both his physical fitness and fighting skill. He also wasn't afraid to fight dirty. After a couple minutes, which seemed like an eternity, Trevor was straddling Mike. He landed a couple of punches to his face before he realized that his ex-friend had grabbed something on the way down.

"Either you get out right now or I'm calling the cops." Trevor looked down at him, shocked at the sight. Had he really done that much damage to his buddy's face?

"Come on, Mike. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. God, look at your face. Hey, I'm sorry."

Mike pressed the TALK button on the phone. "Get. Out. Now." Trevor got off of him, wincing at his own pain, and quickly left the apartment. Mike laid on the floor for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling. His mind was racing, which did nothing to help the pounding in his skull. He ached all over and he could taste blood. He and Trevor had wrestled quite a bit in college, they'd even gotten into a few fist fights, but nothing like that.

Carefully, Mike picked himself up and walked into the bathroom. Setting the phone on the sink, so as to keep it near, he looked into the mirror. He shuddered at the sight of his own reflection, wishing that the beaten man staring back was not him. His lip was split open and bleeding, blood trickled from his nose, and his eye was slightly swelling. Unbelievably, he had deflected most of Trevor's aims too.

Gingerly, he washed the blood from his face. It looked better. His lip wasn't as badly cut as he thought, certainly not in need of stitches. Maybe if he held some ice to it, and his eye, it would look better tomorrow. He hoped so. He didn't know how he could bear going to work like that or how he was going to explain it all to Harvey.

_**SUITS**_

Mike overslept. Crawling out of bed was an ordeal, he hadn't gotten to press any of his suits, and the bike ride to the firm almost killed him. His whole body hurt although he tried not to let on. He kept his head down as he walked up to Harvey's office. Thankfully, no one noticed him. He was, after all, only an associate.

"Do you know what time it is?" Harvey asked, as Mike entered his office. "I needed that collateral pledge agreement at 7:30 this morning. It is now..." The older man stopped mid-sentence as he looked up at his young prodigy. Mike held the document in front of his face.

"Here," he tried passing it to Harvey while simultaneously turning to leave.

"Stop, Mike." He did. "Look at me." As Mike faced him it took all of Harvey's self-discipline not to yell. The boy's lip was cut, and aside from several other minor bruises on his jaw and cheek bones, he had one of the worst black-eyes Harvey had ever seen. He reminded him of an abused puppy. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I fell."

Harvey's face was a blank slate, betraying nothing, although inside a storm raged. "Come on, kid. Is that the best a genius like you could come up with? Do you expect me to believe that?" No reply. Mike's words from a few days prior came back to Harvey – encouragement made people function under pressure. If he wanted him to talk then he had to seem concerned, which he truly was. As much as Harvey tried to hide it, underneath his rough exterior he actually had a heart, and he really did care about the kid. "Listen, Mike, I want to help." Mike considered this and seemed to accept it.

The younger man mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?"

Mike lifted his head. "Trevor."

"Trevor did this?" Harvey was almost unable to mask his surprise. Mike gave a slight nod. For a long moment the two men stood staring at each other, neither of them knowing what to do. For once in his life, Harvey Specter didn't know what to say. The more he looked at Mike the hotter the anger inside of him burned. "I thought I told you to break all ties with him." The words came out harsher than he had intended.

"I-I did." The kid looked crestfallen. "Nevermind." Mike spun on his heels and headed for the door. He was ashamed at his own lack of professionalism and his naivety. Why had he ever let himself believe that someone would trouble themselves with a loser like him? Harvey reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Donna! Can you come in here please?"

"What can I...?" the woman stopped, her mouth hanging open. "Oh my."

"Do you have any cover-up with you? See what you can do for this mess." She nodded, hurried out of the room, and returned a second later with her purse.

"Sit," she ordered. Mike obeyed. He was glad she didn't ask him any questions. He already felt enough like a little child as it was – helpless and meek. He hoped that it didn't come off as weakness. The last person he wanted to view him as weak was Harvey. This was, however, the last thing that was going through Harvey's mind. He was standing beside Mike, his stance rigid and tall. Protective. It crossed his mind that this was what being an older brother must be like.

"It's going to be alright. When Donna finishes with you, go over the McBurney lease, then go buy some stuff of your own to cover those hideous bruises. We don't want people asking questions." Harvey headed toward the door. "And lock my office behind you. God knows who would poke around in here."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to take care of something."

"Harvey?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Mike's tone was soft and sincere. It was exactly what Harvey needed to hear to strengthen his resolve. He had something to take care of all right.

_**SUITS**_

Trevor had just finished smoking some particularly good bud when there was a knock at his door. Clumsily he stood and walked to it. He didn't recognize the guy he glimpsed through the peep-hole, but he wasn't too worried about it. He often had random men in suits come to his door looking to purchase. He opened it without a logical thought.

"Is your name Trevor?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I'll take that as a yes. You know Mike Ross?"

"Sure. Look man if this is..." The stranger held up his hand to silence him. Then he quite deliberately removed his suit jacket and draped it over his left arm. Trevor relaxed some at this: the guy didn't seem to be packing. He opened his mouth to speak again when the man's fist connected square with his jaw, knocking him to the floor.

"You ever go near Mike Ross again, and I _will_ kill you." The threat was hollow, but Trevor didn't need to know that. The man had seen hundreds of guys like this – worthless, idiotic cowards. When a threat was made against their lives they always took it seriously, because most times it was. Hell, Trevor was lucky he didn't call the cops on him right then and let them deal with him. The little weasel. Of course, then he never would have gotten the satisfaction of punching him himself. "Are we clear?" Trevor held a hand to his jaw, testing its movement.

"Yeah, we're clear."

"Good." The senior partner turned sharply on his heels, and walked gracefully down the hall. The lawyer may have been a lot of things, but uncaring and disloyal were not among them, despite what people believed. You mess with the bull you get its horns. You mess with Mike Ross you get a very pissed off, very influential enemy – one Mr. Harvey Specter.

**END**


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